


Freedom

by Suuz_5_5



Category: Mission: Impossible (Movies)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-28
Updated: 2018-09-28
Packaged: 2019-07-18 18:40:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16124438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suuz_5_5/pseuds/Suuz_5_5
Summary: Ilsa has to figure out how to be free.Set between Rogue Nation and Fallout.





	Freedom

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t own the Mission Impossible franchise. My native language is Dutch and I'm dyslectic so sorry for any mistakes. My first fanfic for Mission Impossible so I hope I did it some justice.

The view from the window had become familiar to Ilsa, something she wasn’t used to. She used to be always on the move. No time to stand still and enjoy the view. Now she had all the time. Weeks had gone by since all the events in London. Since the IMF had caught Lane. MI6 wasn’t happy about that. Ilsa had been separated from the IMF team at the airport, ordered back home. One final time, thanks to Ethan. After everything she would be free. Able to make her own choices. But first she had to deal with the briefing with MI6 and that had taken much longer than expected. MI6 wanted to know everything that had happened during her time with Lane and the last couple of days with the IMF. How it could be that she had failed to deliver Lane to MI6 after those two years undercover. When she had answered their questions, they would ask them all over again. Being thorough, they called it, but Ilsa had her doubts about that. This time around they asked about her personal relationship with the IMF. How they could’ve kept interfering with MI6 operations. All they were doing was causing trouble for MI6, as Lane was now in the hands of the Americans. Ilsa kept it vague, calling them colleagues and there to help her out. Because that were all they were, right?

After what felt like forever, MI6 had run out of questions to ask her. She was done with them, as she told them explicitly. She was ready to be free. Now she stood in front of one of the MI6 safe houses, where she had been briefed. Ready to start a new life. Free to choose where she wanted to go. She could choose her own path, an unfamiliar feeling. For the past years she had constantly been told where to go and what to do. For the first time in a long time, she was free. Exactly what she wanted. But yet…there was an unsettling feeling in the back of her mind.

Freedom was something strange, Ilsa realized as more weeks passed. It was something unfamiliar to her. She needed time to settle into a life without all the secrecy and lies. She could finally be who she was. There was no need to hide. Still Ilsa was aware of her surroundings wherever she went. She checked all the exits when she stepped into a building, planning her escape for when needed. Checked for concealed weapons with every person she saw. Her training was still present with time passing. She couldn’t just shake it off. Choices were overwhelming her. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had to think about her meals. With the MI6 she had been moved from safe house to safe house. From one mission to the next. She was simply happy when she got a moment to eat and didn’t spend time thinking about what to eat. Now she had a choice for every meal and there were so many options. Something so mundane, but it was overwhelming her. It truly felt like she was starting over life. Starting at the beginning.

Ilsa was still careful. Using aliases wherever she went. At first she was going through them fast, unable to stay at one place for a long time. The nagging, uneasy feeling was still present. But she gave herself a little more time at each place she stayed. Giving herself the opportunity to meet new people. Ilsa enjoyed this new pace of life, seeing all these new places. Some she had been before, but she never had the chance to simply walk around. It had always been for some mission, when completion was all that mattered. But she was learning. To let people in, even when it was with an alias. She was learning to walk around town and enjoy it. To shake off the nagging, unsettling feeling, pushing it further into the back of her mind.

Every now and then Ilsa did the odd job for an old contact from her time at MI6 to earn some money. Still, there was some restlessness within her. Months had gone by and it was becoming quiet. She still checked daily for new messages, but they had become less frequent. Ilsa had expected it but wished it hadn’t happened. Life went on. For her, but for the IMF as well. She had to admit she started to miss the messages. The short moments of contact. Starting over meant being lonely. She could never be a hundred percent sure about people’s intentions. This distrust made her lonely. As weeks passed, she started to realize she had never felt more alone than when she was free. The last message told them to be safe, after Ethan had told her they had to go dark for a while. It made her miss her old job. The action. Her days were never that exciting. A calmness had come over life. One she enjoyed, but she started to feel anxious. It was not her work with MI6, if she was honest. It were those short days with the IMF that she missed. The MI6 had betrayed her. Sent her to a ruthless terrorist empty-handed. It had been the IMF who had saved her. Ethan had believed and trusted her each time. No matter how many times she had crossed them. There seemed to be an understanding, but not one Ilsa would ever truly understand. A sadness filled Ilsa when she thought about Ethan. In a foolish moment, one of weakness, she had asked him to come with her. Leave it all behind. She had never been ready to say goodbye to him. There was something about that man. With him she felt safe, even when she knew she shouldn’t really. Hell, she’d even jumped from the roof of the opera house with him. All she should have felt was fear, but in his arms she felt safe. There was trust, in a man she had only seen twice in her life. With whom she crossed paths at inconvenient moments. She felt safe running through London with him by her side. There was something. Something that would not be explored. His answer had been no. She wanted to be free, but he hadn’t felt the same way. So she left, but it was hard. Without MI6 or IMF she felt somewhat lost. Stuck in this limbo of unknown and many choices. Ilsa started to realize she didn’t know how to be free.

It would take time. Ilsa knew that, but she was not given that time. One sunny morning she was just strolling around the latest town, when she noticed a man. There was something about him. He walked along with her, at her pace. Gave her one too many glances but never truly looked at her. It made him stand out like a sore thumb. Even after all this time, the nagging, uneasy feeling had kept her alert. Ilsa took a deep breath and turned into a random street on her right. She quickened her pace and glanced over her shoulder. The man had taken the same turn. She turned left, hoping to have the advantage on him by knowing the town better. She had studied the streets in the last couple of weeks. Walking through them every day. She had been making exit plans in her head and on the map. That nagging feeling had kept her on edge. She knew this could happen. She had lost the protection of MI6 when she got out. There was no backup. She was on her own and over the years she had made enemies. There was no other way.  
After another couple of turns, Ilsa stopped and waited. In this turn of a narrow street, she was ready to attack if needed. She waited for five, ten minutes, until she realized the man wasn’t coming. The street stayed empty. A feeling started to set in. Had the man truly been following her? Or had she just been on edge, even after all these months? MI6 had been on her mind. The restlessness might have played tricks on her mind.

Ilsa tried to give her mind some rest. Decided to pack up her things once again, even though she started to love the town. It was better to be safe than sorry. She threw a map on the table and selected a new town at random. But even a new place didn’t help Ilsa to settle down. The nagging, uneasy feeling was now screaming at her wherever she went. Her distrust of people was back into full force and she spent hours by herself in her room. Studying the map and walking around the town, making sure she knew where all the streets were leading her. It made her feel paranoid as the days passed. Nothing was happening.

However, after almost two years of freedom, Ilsa noticed another man. It was just one brief movement that caught her eye, but alarm bells went off in her head. He had moved his hand to his ear and talked. A radio, Ilsa realized, which meant there was more than one. Their eyes interlocked for a moment before Ilsa sprinted into the first street on her left. Her mind was racing on the steps to take. She had studied the map and knew which streets to take. There was a possibility to outsmart them. Going home would be a mistake. If they had found her in this town, they would have found her safe house as well. She just had to make it to the station to get her second go-bag. Just five more streets…three…two…  
Something hit Ilsa’s back, sending her to the ground. She turned around and saw a little dart sticking out. Slowly she reached up and took the dart out. She blinked several times to fight the effects. Whoever they were, they didn’t want her dead. She just didn’t know whether that was a good or a bad thing.

* * *

Ilsa woke up in a concrete room, with just a table and three chairs. A room that was oddly familiar to her. Her head turned to the right when the door opened and two men walked inside. Both wore black suits and one was carrying a folder. One that she had seen many times before.

‘Miss Faust,’ said the older one when they had both sat down. ‘You made it hard to find you. Moving frequently. I see at least twenty-one towns in the last twenty months that we know of. Always one step ahead. Until now, of course.’ He gestured at her sitting in front of them.

‘I hope the effects of the sedative weren’t too severe,’ the younger one said. Ilsa said nothing. She just glared at the two MI6 agents.

‘Would you like some water?’ the older agent asked and he offered her a bottle.

‘I’m out,’ Ilsa said hostilely. The younger one chuckled.

‘Oh no you’re not,’ he said. ‘You see, Solomon Lane is still not in our custody.’

‘That was your mission, Miss Faust,’ the older one added, ‘which makes you still active with MI6. We do not like messes and you made one. It is time to clean up.’ He opened the folder and showed her several papers. ‘Solomon Lane is being sent from one agency to the next. MI6 can’t have this. Either MI6 gets him, or no one does.’

‘Which is where you come in.’ More papers were placed on the table and Ilsa gave them a quick glance. Lane was named several times. Just like a man called John Lark, though there weren’t any pictures of him. ‘You are to be sent as John Lark’s protection detail. MI6 has taken care of it. Lark has gotten himself a dangerous reputation, so it’s up to you to keep him alive.’

‘He is making arrangements with a woman called the White Widow,’ the older man explained. ‘He is going to get Lane, so you are to help him and afterwards make sure Lane and Lark are both dealt with.’ Ilsa looked over all the papers and then glanced at the two agents.

‘And if I refuse?’ she asked, fully aware of the answer.

‘You know as well as we do that that is not an option,’ the older man answered. Ilsa stared at the picture of Solomon Lane right in front of her and started to think she wasn’t meant to be free.

* * *

The music was drowning out all other sounds at the Grand Palais. It was the way Ilsa preferred it. She didn’t like the man she was protecting. She had read the MI6 file on John Lark and it told her enough. But it would be over soon. Tonight he was meeting the White Widow to get Lane. Just a couple of hours more, she told herself as she made her way through the crowd. Just before the meeting, Lark had to go to the bathroom. Delaying her…end of the mission. She could no longer call it freedom. She realized she was stuck.  
Ilsa stepped inside the completely white bathroom and quickly glanced around to make sure it was clear. When she stepped outside, she gave Lark a short nod, and he went inside. Ilsa took a deep breath and leaned her head against the wall. The crowd in front of her was paying no attention to her. They were going crazy about this apparently famous DJ. It suited Ilsa just fine. Then, from the corner of her eye, she saw him. A new man was walking alongside him, but she was certain it was him. She should have known Ethan would cross her path. And when she saw them go inside the men’s bathroom, she knew he was going to make her life a whole lot more difficult.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to my sister for (always) being my beta ^^


End file.
